Anyway, last night was the first time we were all making submissions to the club. The internet is an awesome tool. We attach our documents and send them off and then each read the others and send them back with comments and suggestions and encouragement. I really didn't know what to write. I've been thinking about for days now, and nothing was coming. But as I was driving home from a friends house last night, it suddenly just composed itself in my head. And eventhough I wrote it at about 1:00 a.m. this morning, it actually turned out pretty good. And it was more than a little cathartic. It makes me feel very vulnerable, which is something I'm not good at being. I feel too often like I need to be strong all the time. But I feel like I needed to share it. Eventually I'll take bits an pieces of this and other parts of me and form it into lyrics and ultimately a song. And I'll figure out a way to share that with you too. But for now...
Enough
The tears
streamed down my face; hot but not unfamiliar.
To be perfectly honest, I was growing too accustomed to their
presence. At this point they had become
just a part of everyday life. A welcome
one, really, as it meant I was at least still alive and feeling something. I knew I could control them or even stop
them, if I so desired. But they were
like old friends now. I wanted them to
linger; to hear out all my problems. And
I usually felt better after their visits.
All the
signs had been there for two years. Had
I been blind to them? Or had I seen them
but tried to push them away into that overflowing river of denial? How many chances had I given him? Too many.
And how many had he wanted? Not
one. How I had I spent two years of my
life thinking I was going to save something that he was so determined was not
to be saved?
Why didn’t
he want me? What was it about me that he
suddenly found so revolting? Wasn’t
there one thing he could see in me worth fighting for?
Oops. I really shouldn’t pull at those
threads. Suddenly every insecurity I’ve
ever had poked their ugly heads out and started waving and shouting “Pick
me! Pick me!”.
Obviously I
must not be pretty enough. He’s made it
oh so very clear that he’s not attracted to me.
I’m sure my looks are subpar. And
considering that he’s always talking down to me, he must think I’m incredibly
stupid. I’ve never really felt “not
smart enough” before. I’ve always
thought I was a fairly intelligent person; above average even. But I’m sure that’s got to be part of
it. I’m just too dumb for him. I’m a bad cook, don’t keep house well enough,
do the laundry wrong, not sympathetic enough, not loving enough.
Not enough.
I guess
that’s what it boils down to. I’m not
enough.
Those
thoughts had crept into my head before.
They really took hold and bothered me.
I spent two years trying to find ways to be “enough”.
But now, I
finally realize that I will never be enough.
I don’t know what his expectations are.
I don’t know how he pictured things going in his head. But I’m pretty certain whatever picture is in
his head, doesn’t include me. He’s just
not brave enough to say it; to make the first move. He’s forced me into this position to have me
be the one to end it; to call it quits.
And why shouldn’t
I? There must be someone out there who
thinks I’m pretty enough. There’s got to
be a guy who thinks I’m smart enough. I
have to believe that someday some guy will think I’m a good enough cook, a good
enough house keeper, a good enough person, a good enough reason to get up in
the morning.
And don’t I
deserve to be someone’s “enough”?
Umm....If I made you cry, I'm really sorry about that.
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